


Operation: 3.6.2.

by CyclonicJet



Category: Codename: Kids Next Door
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-02-09 05:10:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18631468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyclonicJet/pseuds/CyclonicJet
Summary: The GKND have taken control of the KND. Their leaders scattered, the organisation of kids world wide soon fell apart. Until numbuh 362, their former leader, reemerges to build a resistance force out of the disparate remaining loyalists. Launching guerrilla strikes against the might of the GKND, they have succeeded in incurring the galaxy spanning organisations wrath. As such they have now launched their latest and greatest operative to take 362, and those who follow her, down.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I only recently learned of the GKND idea. But it quickly inspired me. I took some liberties with the idea to craft my own short story, but it was such a vivid concept I had to breath life into it. Their isn't a great deal here, little more then a snap shot story from the wider world I'm sure surrounds it. But it was fun to write for sure.

**_Five months since GKND takeover..._ **

 

The door slammed shut behind him. He marched stoically up to the dais and waited. Thirty seconds later the ginormous screen in front of him lit up. A figure cast in shadows stared back out of it.

“Number one.” said the boy on the monitor. “You have a new assignment .”

Number one saluted. “Ready and waiting sir!”

“I’m uploading the mission parameters to you now.” he said. A moment later the control panel before him lit up with a scrolling screen covered with data. “You’ll find all the information you need in here. But I’ll give you the brief rundown anyway.”

The boy in shadows tapped a button and a dossier appeared on screen. Attached to it was an image of a young blond girl. “Number three sixty two. Real name Rachel T. McKenzie. Former commander of Kids Next Door forces of sector Sol.”

“She has become a problem. Over the past three months she has managed to coalesce remaining earth based KND forces into a unified force. A renegade force. Now she is using it to launch hit and run strikes against GKND operations in the sector.”

He pressed another button and a series of images flashed on screen. Most of them showed the aftermath of said hit and run attack’s. Weapon supply depots raided and looted, transports sabotaged beyond repair, and entire GKND squads that had simply vanished. Perhaps most strikingly however was the final image to flash up.

The text scroll running adjacent provided context. It described how the renegade KND forces had launched an audacious mission, to try and reclaim both the code module and the book of KND from the moonbase.

The image itself was blurred, but the subject of the picture itself was unmistakable. It showcased 362 herself, outfitted in her full battle regalia, engaged with three GKND operatives with her mighty Yield staff in one hand, and the book of KND in the other.

“She,” continued the figure on screen, “and those who follow her, must be brought to heel. Continued interference in our operations like this can not be allowed to continue.”

Again number one saluted. “Yes sir. Understood.”

The figure paused for a second, seemingly judging him. “I assigned you this mission Number One myself. I did so as you have perhaps the best understanding of both this particular sector, and more importantly, this target.”

The boy leaned forward so that half his face was now exposed by the light of his monitor, while the other half remained veiled in shadow. “I hope that I have made the right decision, and that no...personal issues, will hinder you in your mission.”

Number One shook his head. “No sir! I will apprehend number 362 and bring her back for interrogation.”

“Good. Then nothing more needs be said. Make preparations and depart as soon as possible Number One. It’s time you paid a visit home.”

* * *

 

**_Three weeks later…_ **

 

Number one tapped his wrist bound tracker. It stuttered slightly before continuing to beep insistently at him as it had done for the few hours. It was utterly insistent that his target now lay just ahead. He gazed up at the mangled and gnarled treehouse before him. A twisted mass of rotting wood and rusted metal, it stood quiet and abandoned, hidden in the depths of great arboreal forests of Canada.

If the tracker said she was inside, then she was inside.It’s not like she had anywhere else left to go at this point. Ever since he had arrived back on earth, the two of them had been playing a game of cat and mouse. Every time he cornered her, she’d find a way to slip away. But he’d been slowly wittling her down, each time getting closer and closer to catching her. Now at last it seemed the game was up.

She couldn’t have been here more than a few hours ahead of him. After all it had only been that morning that he’d nearly had har captured again, only for her to jump a transport and attempt to escape once again.  He’d taken swift pursuit of her, but he had forgotten just quite how resourceful she could be. For he flown straight into a trap of her own. A swift dogfight later and he’d been crashed and stranded in the great forests, not that she gotten off much better. 

During their duel he’d managed to damage her engines, they no longer had the power to travel far, probably with no greater range then this abandoned tree by his estimates. And now she was stuck here, with nowhere left to run, and nowhere left to hide.

He trod up to the base of the tree and started to test it. All KND trees houses came with an emergency secret entrance near the base. He wrapped his way around the tree, tapping on the wood at regular intervals until at last a he dull echo sounded in response. Placing his hand flat on it he pushed hard, and the door swung open.

Inside it was dark. The lights were off and the hallway ahead silent. He walked inside. The door slid silently closed behind him leaving him in pitch darkness. Suddenly the emergency lights flickered on, washing the wooden walls red. He pressed on.

He held his tracker in front of him. Following the flashing dot now located directly ahead of him. The hallway sloped upward for a while before abruptly ending in a sealed door. His tracker beeped furiously, the dot telling him his target lay just beyond the sheet of metal before him. He tapped on the controls and the door slid open. 

The room beyond was large and drowned in red, laid out in a wide circle it was dotted with a multitude of other sealed doorways and passages. It likely served as the main artery of the base, where everything else connected to and from. In the centre was a chair turned away from him. “Game over 362.” he said. “It’s finally time for you to surrender.” The chair remained static, with there being no sign of movement at all.

He marched over to it. “I see we have to do things the hard way then.” He turned the chair around. The only thing on it was the tracking beacon he’d secretly managed to clip onto her on a previous close encounter. Suddenly the door behind him slammed closed and a wide monitor affixed to a the wall in above and in front of him flickered itself on.

It buzzed for a second before revealing a video of 362 sitting in a different chair elsewhere in the treehouse. It looked like the command centre. She was gazing downward, avoiding eye contact. She had donned her tiger stripe sweatshirt. A garment that was terribly tattered and torn, bearing the obvious scars of many a battle. Next to her, leaning against the chair, was her Yield staff, now bent and misshapen from so many duels. She herself looked tired and beaten.

“I knew you’d come.” she whispered. “You always had that determination...that drive, that none of the rest of us could match. It was that spirit that let nothing stop you from completing your mission. It’s what set you apart. It’s what made you the best.” He remained impassive as she spoke, making no flicker of emotion.

“That’s what I always admired about you number one.” she continued. “Your loyalty...your diligence...your heart…” She paused for a second. “Seems they took that last one away from you…” He blinked, but otherwise said nothing. She stayed quiet for a time, the only sound was that of the low buzz produced by the monitor.

“Number one…” she finally whispered. She turned her face up to look up at him. The sadness in her eyes were indescribable. “...Nigel? Are you even still in there?” 

He didn’t even flinch. Whatever thoughts were passing through his head he kept them firmly to himself. He remained utterly impassive. She lowered her head again. “I didn’t think so…” she said mournfully. A single tear rolled down her cheek. “First I lost Sector Z...and now you as well...” She took a short gasping breath, and then exhaled. She again paused, allowing the static to fill the silence.

“In just three short weeks you have virtually dismantled my entire resistance force single handedly...” she said morosely. “And now...it’s just me and you left.” She straightened up, her face hardening. “Well I’m done running! It’s time that we finished this! Just you and me! The game ends here!”

The tree groaned slightly around him as power began coursing through it once more. The lights shifted, the red hue fading and a more familiar white light replacing it. She stood up and grabbed her staff, pounding it hard on the ground in a clear issue of challenge.

“Find me in the control room! If you think you can reach it!” she declared scornfully. “Sector Z always were a cautious bunch of kids you know. Their treehouse is filled with more traps then you can imagine! For those unacquainted it can be a real gauntlet.”

All the doors around him slid open to reveal a bevy of possible routes, each leading to a twisted maze of passageways. “See you at the finish line Nigel.” she said. The line went dead. ‘Communication Ended’ read across the screen.

Number one looked from passageway to passageway. Anyone of them could be the one he needed to take. He took a second to centre himself. Then walked towards one of the doorways. There was no other choice really. He’d just have to try them all until he found the command centre...until he found her.


	2. Chapter 2

A large reinforced security door stood solidly before him. He himself was exhausted. A gauntlet of traps had succeeded in wearing away at him. But he had actually found them far more trying on his patience then his body. This game ended the same way no matter how 362 played it. She was just dragging it out needlessly.

He turned his attention to the console inlaid to the wall. He eyed the button simply labelled 'open'. She wouldn't make it that easy surely. He reached down and pressed it. The soft hiss of compressors letting out air wafted from unseen places. The door slid open. 

The room beyond was pitch dark, with even the emergency lightning having been disabled. He could see nothing in the gloom before him. He stepped inside.  The door slid shut behind him, sealing him in. The room was silent, almost eerily so. No hum of machines or groaning sounds from the tree itself. There was nothing but the sound of his own breath.

Suddenly he heard something. A slight scuff, little more than a whispered trace of fabric being dragged across the floor. He lifted his arm in a blocking manoeuvre, letting his instincts guide his action. The impact of a sandled foot collided with it. The momentary contact seemed to last an age, as the two of them vied to overpower the other. They both lost. Numbuh One slid backwards a few paces under the force of her kick. 362 herself simply launched away off his arm and back into the shadows. She vanished again.

“Reactions as sharp as ever I see.” her voice said from seemingly every direction. “That’s good. I don’t want this to be easy.”

He took a step forward but was quickly forced to back flip backward as a slight whooshing of air flew past him. He had just about managed to avoid another kick.

“You can’t win 362.” he declared to the room. “You are merely delaying the inevitable. This is pointless.” Barely had the last word left his mouth then was he forced to duck as something sounding very heavy flew over his head.

“I beg to differ.” came a voice from directly behind him.

He turned and struck outward, but his palm found only the air. A heavy kick landed in his gut and all the air in his lungs was forcibly exhaled. He was sent flying backwards towards the centre of the room. He crashed into the side of something and coughed violently as air flooded back into his lungs. He reached up and grasped at the object he had collided with. It was a chair. He used it to lift himself back to his feet.

This wasn’t good. The gauntlet of the tree and worn him down, but she was rested and ready to brawl. He couldn’t afford to let this drag out. He needed to end this quickly.  He took a breath and centred himself. He let the exhaustion drain from him muscles. He gave himself completely over to his finely honed instincts. Years of hard earned experience would guide him better now than conscious thought ever could. This state of combative zen wouldn’t last forever, but it would last just long enough for him to finish this.

He balled his hand and smacked the resultant fist into the palm of his other hand. He shimmied his legs together and took a relaxed pose. Then he waited.  He closed his eyes and let his other senses take over. His ears were made wide to the darkness. Sensitive to anything and everything. Subconsciously he began ignoring his own breath, it was merely a distraction.  In his heightened awareness he could start hearing things that had previously been inaudible. The faint pounding of his pulse. The muffled groan of far distant wood. The subtle scratching of fabric being drawn over fabric.

He raised his leg and almost effortlessly deflected her attack. But before he could capitalise on her sudden plight, she recovered and bounded away.

Her laugh filled the room. “You don’t even have night vision glasses and you’re still holding me off. I expected nothing less from you Nigel.”  He didn’t flinch. He simply continued to wait. Patience often rewarded those who heeded it...

There! A misplaced breath, drew a little too quickly. He ratcheted his arm up and seized her Yield staff just short of his torso. Through it he could feel 362’s grip as well. The push and pull of her arm resonating down the pole. He yanked on it, carrying it in a mighty arc around him and launching her off the other end of it. He withdrew it back to him, gripping it tightly in his hands. Now she was disarmed, and he had a weapon.

A disgruntled noise emanated out from the shadows behind him. “Impressive. But I’m not done yet!” she yelled. He turned and blocked her attack with the staff. She had seemingly abandoned stealth now, preferring an all out assault instead to try and overcome him. 

He parried attack after attack, each strike against the staff resulting in a dull ringing noise. He waited for his opportunity. She misplaced a strike of her arm, going a little too wide past him. His instincts told him it was time.  He advanced. A step forward at a time. 362 had no choice but to retreat. He pushed her back slowly but steadily, now launching his own attack’s instead of merely playing defence.

His eyes had begun to adjust to the gloom now, half imaged silhouettes appeared in the murky darkness. He could just about make out 362’s outline now, a rapidly moving shape that shifted with each new attack.  Behind her loomed a vast matinee of voidless black. They were fast approaching the wall of the room. He deflected an unenthusiastic kick. She was now hitting with a lot less force then she had initially. He was closing the box on her. All he needed to do now was outlast her resolve. Weariness and exhaustion would do the rest.

She suddenly disengaged from combat and drew a few steps back, pressing herself up against the wall. He advanced slowly towards her, he needed to keep the pressure on, give her no chance to rest and recuperate. Her breath was heavy and laboured. “Just give it up.” he said. “You’re done.”

She laughed again. “You know Nigel.” she said. “You always had a certain cunning to your plans. A brilliant kind of mad logic for each action you took. But I don’t see any of it in you anymore. It’s all mechanical and rigidity now with you now. Maybe they don’t like people thinking outside the box in the GKND.”  He scowled and raised the staff, preparing to deliver a knockout blow. 

“But I watched you. Learnt from you. Began to understand that crazed madness you called logic. And you know what I learnt from it? From you? I learnt how to be cunning...how to be unpredictable...how to be prepared to lose the fight in order to win the war!”

He swiped down at her as she pressed something behind her. There was a short clicking noise and the room was abruptly bathed in light as every light switched on at once.  His eyes, adjusted for the dark as they were, were instantly blinded. Even his sunglasses could do little to stop the dazzling spotlights dancing around his retinas. His swing failed and he staggered back in a daze. He felt 362’s presence again as she grabbed the staff and yanked it from his flailing hands. A moment later the boxing glove on the end was shunted into him, knocking him backwards across the room.

He stumbled into the chair once more. His legs buckled beneath him and he collapsed down into the seat. Restraints swiftly appeared from the armrests, spooling themselves around his arms and legs, restraining him completely. He pulled hard against them, straining his muscles as far as they would go, but it was to no avail. He was stuck fast.

“I was hoping to avoid this Nigel.” she said, her voice suddenly the perfect image of poise and calm. He couldn't see her yet. His eyes were still sealed closed, throbbing violently from the sudden assault of light. “But you’ve left me no choice.” she finished. 

He could hear her walking across the floor, moving to another side of the room.  “What are you doing!?” he demanded. He despised being so helpless. Loathed it even.

“Worst case it’ll erase his mind…” she seemed to murmur to herself. “But if it works...the risk has to be worth it…there’s no other way.”

“362!” he yelled. “I demand to know what you are planning!”

She sighed. “This was always a last resort.” she seemed to say as much to herself as in response to him. “I’m not even sure if it’ll work.”

She fell silent. He struggled again against the restraints. A full minute passed before she spoke again. “Nigel would understand.” she muttered to herself. “He’d want this. No matter the risk. I’m sure of it.”

The chair swivelled in place. He blinked hard, desperately trying to regain his vision. As the world slowly began to resolve again he began to discern basic shapes in front of him. There was what might have been some kind of table with a box on top of it. The shape next to it shifted slightly.

“This is not what I wanted.” she whispered softly. “I had wanted you to...hoped that you’d…” she sighed, her head dipping down. “I hoped that I could have saved you.”

His vision was improving rapidly. Although the light still stung and his eyes still watered, he could see. He found he was grinding his teeth. He yanked hard again against the restraints.

“But it’s clear now that I can’t reach you. Maybe if the others had…” She shook her head. “Well, it didn’t pan out that way. No use dwelling on what could have been.”

He could see now that she was kneeling, using her staff to prop herself up. The exhaustion on her face was palpable. It was amazing she could still even stay up right at all.  “But I have one last trick up my sleeve. One final gambit.” She patted the box. “If this can’t fix you…” she muttered. She sighed. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” she said.

He finally began to examine the box more closely. It kind of resembled an old fashioned camera, equipped with a hand crank and everything. He’d have recognised it anywhere. “That thing was destroyed!” he exclaimed. “Beyond all repair! How did you-“

“Fix it?” she finished for him. “It wasn’t easy.” She looked and examined the recommissioning module herself. “Took Numbuh 2 weeks to piece it back together. But in the end your friend proved he really is unparalleled with this kind of stuff.”

She turned to face him again. “I knew they’d send you. How could they not. So we planned, and baited a trap, and then we waited. And just as I predicted you came.  But it didn’t go exactly the way I planned it. You were supposed to have walked into our carefully laid trap the day you arrived. But you didn’t. Instead you hit us where we didn’t expect, knocked us off balance.”

She stood up. “And then you did it again, and again, and again. Carefully avoiding our most well laid traps. In the end we were left with no choice. I had to do this. There was no other choice. I led you here. To this place. This treehouse. A trap even you didn't know was a trap."

She picked up the box. “The code module. It houses the DNA profile of every KND operative. Including yours. It was never removed. And now it might be the only way to save you Nigel.”

He wriggled and squirmed in the chair. Desperate to escape its embrace.

“If there were any other way.” He could see a tear running down her cheek. “I’ve already lost you. It can’t get much worse than what you’ve become.”

“Don’t do this!” he found himself pleading. “You have no idea what’ll even happen!”

“No.” she said cranking the handle. “I don’t…” she said with a half choke. “I’m sorry.” The recommissioning module fired.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Any feedback would be lovely! What you liked, what you didn't. What resonated with you and so on. I l just love seeing any and all comments! I don't yet know where this is going. I have ideas for where it might yet go, but nothing concrete. But I'm excited to see what my imagination conjures up!


End file.
